Trump seems especially mad at Mike Bloomberg, and any New Yorker could tell you why

Donald
Trump christens with champagne a new variety of rose that was
named after him in a ceremony in Quito, Ecuador, on May 31,
2004.Reuters

Democrats spent four days trashing GOP presidential nominee
Donald Trump at their convention, but it seems that Trump has
taken special issue with one speaker in particular: billionaire
entrepreneur and former New York City Mayor Mike Bloomberg.

Trump also made a clear reference to Bloomberg at a rally
in Iowa on Thursday: "I was going to hit one guy, in
particular a very little guy. I was going to hit this guy so hard
his head would spin. He wouldn't know what the hell
happened."

Bloomberg is not a Democrat. Nor is he running for office. But he
gets the threat of physical violence and a fun nickname because
someone like Bloomberg offending Trump is especially offensive to
Trump.

Any New Yorker can tell you why. It's because Trump has spent
decades ignoring one of the cardinal rules of being publicly rich
in this town: If you must flaunt your money, then you must also
give it away in large sums.

If you don't, then you'll spend your life feeling like an
outsider, building resentment against those who should be your
set. And that's exactly what Trump has done.

America's Trump, New York City's Trump

While America has spent decades seeing Trump as a billionaire
entrepreneur with a lux lifestyle, New York's elite have spent
the same amount of time seeing him very differently — as a tacky
sideshow with no regard for social norms.

No, this isn't Edith Wharton's New York City, but there are still
rules. For one, if you want to attend everyone's fancy charity
parties, then you've got to make a donation. If you don't make
the donation, then prepare for everyone to stare daggers at you,
to worry about your financial situation, to judge you.

If you don't give, then eventually people will invite you to
fewer events. They'll consider you especially rude for going to
the ones that you have been invited to out of politeness. That is
when you are truly rejected by people who, ideally, since you're
a "billionaire, too," should be your peers.

And that's when the gauche things you do as a rich person are
suddenly inexcusable. People may see you at parties, but they do
not really see you. They see a clown, a joke, a fraud.

"The Post contacted 167 charities searching for evidence of
personal gifts from Trump in the period between 2008 and this
May. The Post sought out charities that had some link to Trump,
either because he had given them his foundation's money, appeared
at their charity galas or praised them publicly.

"The search turned up just one donation in that
period — a 2009 gift of between $5,000 and $9,999 to the
Police Athletic League of New York City.

"In all, when the $1 million gift to veterans is added to
his giving through the Donald J. Trump Foundation, Trump has
given at least $3.8 million to charity since 2001. That is a
significant sum, although not among billionaires. For example,
hedge fund titan Stanley Druckenmiller, just behind Trump on
Forbes's rankings of net worth, gave $120 million to his
foundation in 2013 alone."

So enter Bloomberg, a man whose name is uttered with the utmost
respect among New York City's elite. He was the
city's mayor, and he's dedicated his vast fortune to
Bloomberg Philanthropies,
among other charitable causes.

Whether or not everyone agrees with his politics, his generosity
is unquestionable. This is a man who writes $100 million checks
for Bill and Melinda Gates' charitable work while doing his own.
This is a man who has given away
billions of his $37 billion fortune to those less fortunate.

This is in sharp contrast to Trump, who, according to
The Washington Post, has given no money to his own
foundation since 2008.

Hands

Over the years, Trump has yearned for Bloomberg's acceptance as
he has been for the acceptance of others in Bloomberg's cohort.
Again, he considers himself, as a fellow billionaire, part of
their world. Back when Bloomberg was considering a run for
president himself, Trump told
CNN, "We used to be friends. I guess we're
not friends anymore."

Oh, you thought you guys were friends?

Trump was never to be friends with the likes of Michael
Bloomberg. That fact was stunningly clear to New Yorkers as early
as 1990, when Spy Magazine — a now defunct publication started by
a captain of New York society, Graydon Carter, now Vanity Fair
editor — played a nasty trick on a bunch of New York City's
wealthiest.

To find out how many of the city's rich actually acted quite
poorly, Spy sent a bunch of checks in very small amounts — $1.11,
$2, $0.16 — to dozens of people from Cher to author Kurt
Vonnegut, from media mogul Rupert Murdoch to private-equity
billionaire Henry Kravis.

Carter and his partner, Kurt Andersen, likely howled
as they watched the checks being cashed. Only two people cashed
the smallest, $0.13 check, though.

Spy also famously called Trump a
"short-fingered vulgarian," which he's never gotten over.
Yes, this is why he talks about his hands all the time. It's
because the people of New York City giggled about them about 30
years ago.

And New York City's elite have been quietly chortling about
them ever since.

This understanding of Trump's relationship with those in his
social class should also provide some clarity as to why Wall
Street
has given relatively no money to Trump's campaign. You
see, it's like this: He never gave to their charity cases.

So they're not giving to his.

This is a column. The opinions and conclusions expressed above are those of the author.